They are working lively to set a wire entanglement between the line of craters and a support trench. It has got to be done fast because daybreak will soon be here. The men sense the completion of the task, and hurry to finish it. They joke and seem to forget they are at a place the worst on the whole front. The quiet astonishes them; neither of them find it natural---- Suddenly a heavy explosion--a great trembling and a large spout of earth rises in the air a hundred yards from us---- "There it is--a boche _camouflet_!"[20] At the same moment the well-known serenade--from all sides comes a rain of projectiles: minnenwerfer, shells and bullets. A man, wounded, cries like an infant with its throat cut---- Expecting an attack, I shout to my _poilus_: "_Attention!_ keep your eyes open!" Corporal Poulet replied with an inexplicable accent: "That's all right; as long as your eyeglass is not broken, everything will go well!" A POILU WEEPS, CALONNE TRENCH. _December_, 1915. A beautiful day--but how cold it is! From the German lines as well as our own, white smoke curls up from wood fires. The hour at which the sector becomes active has not arrived, and I have plenty of time to make the rounds of the first line to keep warm. Poor little hill! It is barren! It has been well named: "the lobster's claw." Certainly it has the form and color. The trees are cracked or shattered clear to the roots, because tons of projectiles have fallen on it. The view from this dominating position is really exquisite! In front of me are the heights of the Meuse, to the left is Longeau valley, with the village of Eparges in the bottom and the hills of Montgirmont, Eparges and Hûres which rise on the other side. The hills this morning assume the unforeseen aspect of Mediterranean imagery, red and blue, a land of silence, as if one would find Samos and Ephesus close by. I arrive at a machine-gunner's post--the man is alone, his comrade must be only a few steps away from him. He is crying! He was seated on the ground, his chin in his knees. Unshaven, unkempt, he had such a pitiable face that I sat down at his side---- He was visibly embarrassed and annoyed at having been taken by surprise with his eyes full of tears. "Good morning, _mon vieux_!" "Good morning, lieutenant----" "How damned cold it is this morning." "Oh! yes----" "What's the matter? Is there anything wrong?" "Nothing, I assure you----" "You can talk to me like a brother." He did not reply. "I'm hungry! It won't bother you if I have something to eat here--sardines, a box of _singe_ and some _pinard_--you'll have a portion?" At the end of a few moments we were the best friends in the world. I knew his name, where he was from and what he had done in the campaign. "Why were you crying a moment ago when I came up on you? You are not a man to be afraid in the Calonne Trench, because you are brave--I can read it in your eyes----"